


Ai hod yu in, Klark kom Skaikru.

by Rebels_Folly



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/F, I'm Sorry, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:05:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5480957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebels_Folly/pseuds/Rebels_Folly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke sees Lexa and Lexa sees Clarke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ai hod yu in, Klark kom Skaikru.

**Author's Note:**

> Before you read this, just know that I'm sorry and that I was CRYING while writing this. You can hate me if you want, tell me in the comments.

It’s cold, colder than anything she’s ever felt, even when living in space on the Ark. She lost the feeling in her fingers and toes sometime between last night and this morning. She’s dying, she’s not sure when but it’s no longer an if, it’s not uncertain; she is dying. Her body stopped shivering a while ago and she knows enough to recognize that if her body has given up on keeping itself warm, it’ll happen sooner rather than later. 

She eyes the base of the tree in front of her. She watches Lexa, as Lexa watches her. It’s not the real Lexa, she’s not yet that delusional. Lexa’s shadow, though the girl isn’t dead...as far as she knows, took up haunting her the day she left Camp Jaha. At first, Clarke thought it was her memory of Lexa mocking her, feeding off her regret and guilt of Tondc and Mount Weather. Why else would she see the ghost of a girl who hasn’t yet died?

It was after the first snowfall that she realized that it wasn’t guilt that made her see Lexa, this wasn’t like Finn, this was because her mind was trying to keep her alive, to help her survive. Not-Lexa repeated every lesson that the real Lexa had taught her about Earth, about surviving. The ghost never stayed from her side, she told Clarke when to go, when to stop, reminding Clarke to eat, to drink, to start a fire. 

Eventually, it wasn’t just about surviving. Not-Lexa talked about everything that had happened, she offered Clarke forgiveness. She offered understanding and comfort in that Clarke did not hold all the weight of their decisions. She told Clarke that she chose with her head and not her heart, she saved her people and that is all that mattered. 

“Get up, Clarke.”Not-Lexa urges, but Clarke just smiles; they both know it’s too late. Her heart has already slowed and her breathing is labored, but deep and slow. She’ll fall asleep soon. She wishes for her mother, wants to be in her mother’s arms, safe and warm like before...before all the death. She knows that she’ll blame herself, just like Bellamy will...when they realize what’s become of her. Monty will grieve her, Jasper and Octavia will probably celebrate. 

Raven, oh god, Raven. She’s lost the most out of everyone who’s fallen to the ground, at least in Clarke’s eyes. Now Clarke will be just another thing she’s lost. Clarke will be just another reminder that no one will be there to pick her first, not anymore. Maybe her mother and Raven will take care of each other, she hope they do.

“You’ll be relieved.” Clarke croaks around a dry throat, her laugh turning into a hacking cough on it’s way out, but she holds Not-Lexa’s gaze as best she can.

“You know that is untrue.” Lexa rebuttals with a whisper, moving to sit next to Clarke. Clarke turns her head weakly so that she can still look at Lexa, and though she knows that it’s a delusion, she can feel the girl’s warmth seep into her frozen bones.

“Head over heart.” It’s a reminder to herself, a warning, more than a jab at the ghost. 

Not-Lexa nods solemnly. “My heart shows weakness, Clarke.” Lexa’s voice cracks and it catches Clarke off guard; she’s only ever heard Lexa sound this vulnerable once before. Lexa leans in close enough to brush their noses together...if one of them wasn’t just a figment of the other’s imagination.

“I’m so tired.” Clarke admits as her eyes droop, her gaze unsteady, but she’s so warm now.

“Stay awake, Clarke, keep you eyes open, keep them on me!” Lexa pleads and Clarke laughs. “Your fight isn’t over yet.” They both know she’s lying. 

Blistered lips give a sleepy smile. “It’s okay, Lexa. I’m warm now.” Her eyes peel open just enough to connect with blurry green-grey eyes, they’re sad and watery. “You were my weakness.” Clarke admits with a rattling cough.

Not-Lexa cups her cheek and Clarke feels the roughness of a lifetime worth of swordplay and war; she feels the Commander’s tough and god, does it feel so good. “Ai hod yu in, Klark kom Skaikru.” Clarke’s eyes slip close and they don’t open again, even as she feels familiar lips press to her forehead. She fills the kiss, then...she feels nothing at all.

\------------------------

It’s a week until a nomad stumbles upon the frozen Skai leader, another before she arrives at Polis, finally taking up Lexa’s invitation. It’s a shame it’s not how either girl imagined it.

The Commander is strong, with a mask of iron as she makes the preparations for the Skaikru arrival. She is strong when Abby Griffin spits in her face, stronger even and forgiving as Bellamy’s fist bruises her jaw. She stays strong when she sees Raven, a drunken sobbing mess, being carried in by equally messed up Jasper and Monty. She’s strong as Octavia throws down her sword at Indra’s feet and spits on it, strong when the young warrior pushes her and screams in her face. “You killed her!” She’s strong when she sees the same guilt and regret filling Octavia’s eyes as she feels in her heart.

She’s strong as the pyre is built, and strong when people from all Clan’s gather around to mourn the death of the girl who fell from the sky and saved them all. She’s strong as she hands the torch to Clarke’s mother, and strong when the women whispers the same words her daughter once whispered at another pyre.

She’s strong as she stands watch over Clarke until the very last ember dies out, strong as she watches over Clarke in death as she should have watched over her in life. She watches as the Earth embraces the girl made of stars and strong as she hopes, beyond reason, that Clarke had found peace before her death, or in it.  
In a room, sequestered away from any living soul, two girls sit. One alive and one just a figment of imagination. Blue eyes smile at her and she doesn’t stay strong. She isn’t strong even though she knows, she knows, that she doesn’t deserve to grieve for a girl she had killed herself. She isn’t strong when she falls to her knees and grips the bed of furs where the ghost sits. She isn’t strong when she buries her head into a lap that isn’t there and pleads for forgiveness.

She isn’t strong when soft hands run through her hair and twist her braids. She isn’t strong when the ghost of a girl whispers and offers her strength. offers the forgiveness she so desperately seeks. She isn’t strong when Clarke tell her that she loves her, even in death. 

Lexa is strong when she looks up at the blue eyes of a ghost. Lexa is strong enough, finally and too late, to tell Clarke the truth. “Ai hod yu in, Klark kom Skaikru.”


End file.
